JD, a contractor at Eglin Air Force Base since 2006, died Wednesday after a large amount of fire-fighting foam was released in King Hangar. The incident, which injured three other people, is being investigated.

On the day he died, their 5-year-old daughter left her backpack at home.

He dropped it off at her school.

“I love you alligator,” he told her as he left, poking fun.

After speaking with their contractor — their home in Valparaiso is undergoing extensive repairs — he stopped by Tara’s work for a hug.

Leaving, he caught her eye and smiled.

She can’t believe he’s gone, that he left for work Wednesday and won’t come home.

“I love him so much,” Tara said.

JD and Tara met 13 years ago when she was 16 and he was 18. He brought her out of her shell, protected her and encouraged her to go for her dreams.

“He could read me and I could read him,” Tara said.

He did so much for his wife and daughter, from encouraging Tara to get her medical coding certificate to helping coach Kenna’s soccer team.

JD loved music and photography. He chose all the songs for their wedding, including “Eye of the Tiger” for their walk down the aisle.

The heavy metal enthusiast also had no problem rocking out to “The Little Mermaid” soundtrack with his daughter.

“He wanted to make sure everyone else around him was having a good time,” said Cal Lord, JD’s dad.

There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for another person, Tara said. He helped friends and family with any handiwork at their homes, delivered food to Niceville families in need and always stopped to push a broken-down car.

“The world is a better place because he was here,” said JD’s mom, Teri Lord.

In the days since his death, Tara has told the employees of the Tropical Smoothie and music store he frequented of his passing.

An online YouCaring fundraiser to benefit Tara and Kenna was created by someone who only met JD a handful of times, Tara said. His Facebook page is filled with memories shared by friends and family.

The plan was for a 60-, 70-, 80-year marriage. That he won’t be here to help with decisions, to “get lost” while riding around town and to make her smile through tears is hard for Tara to imagine.

JD, a contractor at Eglin Air Force Base since 2006, died Wednesday after a large amount of fire-fighting foam was released in King Hangar. The incident, which injured three other people, is being investigated.

On the day he died, their 5-year-old daughter left her backpack at home.

He dropped it off at her school.

“I love you alligator,” he told her as he left, poking fun.

After speaking with their contractor — their home in Valparaiso is undergoing extensive repairs — he stopped by Tara’s work for a hug.

Leaving, he caught her eye and smiled.

She can’t believe he’s gone, that he left for work Wednesday and won’t come home.

“I love him so much,” Tara said.

JD and Tara met 13 years ago when she was 16 and he was 18. He brought her out of her shell, protected her and encouraged her to go for her dreams.

“He could read me and I could read him,” Tara said.

He did so much for his wife and daughter, from encouraging Tara to get her medical coding certificate to helping coach Kenna’s soccer team.

JD loved music and photography. He chose all the songs for their wedding, including “Eye of the Tiger” for their walk down the aisle.

The heavy metal enthusiast also had no problem rocking out to “The Little Mermaid” soundtrack with his daughter.

“He wanted to make sure everyone else around him was having a good time,” said Cal Lord, JD’s dad.

There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for another person, Tara said. He helped friends and family with any handiwork at their homes, delivered food to Niceville families in need and always stopped to push a broken-down car.

“The world is a better place because he was here,” said JD’s mom, Teri Lord.

In the days since his death, Tara has told the employees of the Tropical Smoothie and music store he frequented of his passing.

An online YouCaring fundraiser to benefit Tara and Kenna was created by someone who only met JD a handful of times, Tara said. His Facebook page is filled with memories shared by friends and family.

The plan was for a 60-, 70-, 80-year marriage. That he won’t be here to help with decisions, to “get lost” while riding around town and to make her smile through tears is hard for Tara to imagine.